


Best Laid

by BewareTheIdes15



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ok, so, that wasn’t exactly how Jared had imagined the whole ‘hey, I’m kinda into dick, and more specifically yours’ conversation happening with Jensen. He’s not exactly sure why he’s surprised, nothing in Jared’s life even remotely related to Jensen ever works out the way he plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [this prompt](http://bewaretheides15.livejournal.com/82784.html?thread=2316128#t2316128) at the Damn You Autocorrect meme I ran.

Ok, so, that wasn’t exactly how Jared had imagined the whole ‘hey, I’m kinda into dick, and more specifically yours’ conversation happening with Jensen. He’s not exactly sure why he’s surprised, nothing in Jared’s life even remotely related to Jensen ever works out the way he plans.   
  
He’d planned on confetti and a ticker-tape parade after winning the state junior high basketball championships with Chad – inevitable one he put his name on the sign-up sheet, he’d figured - and he’d ended up spending every afternoon of his seventh grade year staying after school to work on dribbling and lay-ups with the new kid from Dallas who was supposed to be some kind of basketball god. He’d planned on getting a convertible for his sixteenth birthday that would have all the girls panting after him – again, inevitable, regardless of being gawky and oversized - and he’d ended up spending all of his Fridays riding around aimlessly in Jensen’s beat up pick up singing at the top of their lungs to old country music. He’d planned on losing his virginity to Sandy McCoy after the Sadie Hawkins dance – slightly less inevitable, but there were decent odds, Sandy really liked him - and ended up picturing Jensen’s rough fingers wrapped around Jared’s cock just to get it up while she gave him a hand job.   
  
Jared’s plans and Jensen go together like pickles and whipped cream and it’s just so fucking unfair because there’s not a single bit of it that he can even blame Jensen for. Jensen’s just Jensen, and Jared can’t resist that.   
  
All he wants is for his best friend to let him suck his dick and possibly fall in big gay love with him. That’s not so much to ask, is it?   
  
***  
  
The third step from the bottom of Jensen’s basement stairs creaks like a scared cat and Jared jumps it automatically, years of practice making the leap to the concrete floor as natural as breathing. Or, you know, as natural as breathing used to be; Jared specifically remembers breathing being natural at some point. Not any point in the last two days since fucking _autocorrect_ screwed over Jared’s entire existence, but at some point, he definitely used to breathe just fine.   
  
It’s going to be ok, Jared tells himself. It’s going to be just fine. Jensen seemed to believe the _LOL, JK. Totally had u for a second, man_ excuse Jared had tapped out while silently cursing Alexander Graham Bell and all of his ilk. Stupid meddling inventors, this shit would have never happened if he and Jensen were relegated to snail mail.   
  
So yeah, it’s fine, it’s not even unusual, people make jokes about him and Jensen fucking each other all the time and it’s never a big deal. Jared just has to not act all spazzy and weird about it and the world will keep right on spinning.   
  
A hand hand waves at him over the back of the couch, a wordless sound following it for a greeting. Jared tosses the jumbo bag of – only marginally worry-squished – Cool Ranch Doritos he’d brought with him on the ottoman next to Jensen’s feet and sinks down into the couch a reasonable distance from his best friend.   
  
Jensen looks like he just rolled out of bed – which, all things considered, he probably did; he never gets up earlier than noon when his parents are out of town, some kind of vindication for all the Sundays his mom drags him out of bed early to go to church – hair all soft-looking where he hasn’t bothered to put any product in it and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose in lieu of putting in his contacts. None of which is what Jared actually gets stuck on because Jensen’s also in nothing but a pair of threadbare boxers pulled tight around the wide spread of his thighs with his hands in the middle mashing furiously at his PS3 controller.   
  
Oh good, nothing there that Jared could possibly get spazzy and weird about at all. Great. He wonders if immediately upon arrival is too soon to excuse himself to bathroom to adjust his dick.

 

“Aren’t you hot?” Jensen says offhandedly, too busy stabbing some guards who had the misfortune of crossing Ezio Auditore to do more than shoot Jared a glance out of the corner of his eye. That’s good, it means the chances are slim that Jensen notices Jared biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from explaining how he’s always hot when Jensen’s around, especially when he’s practically fucking naked right there in front of him. 

  
It takes him another good ten seconds to remember he’s wearing a jacket. Hot. Right, hot.   
  
Trying to convince his hyperactive brain shut up, Jared busies himself shrugging out of his Carhartt and tossing it onto the futon in the corner that doubles as the Ackles’ guest room. By the time he’s settling back in, Jensen’s up at the game console feeding in a new disk, giving Jared a perfect shot at ogling the curve of his ass which Jared does not do even a little bit, no-sir-ee.   
  
When Jensen flops back onto the couch, he’s about a foot and a heart-attack closer to Jared, close enough that when he puts his feet up and spreads his legs again just like before his thigh presses against Jared’s. It’s almost distracting enough to keep Jared’s eyes from getting snared by the shadowy space at the front of Jensen’s boxers where the fabric slit has pulled open slightly to reveal a thin sliver of flesh. Of _dick_. Jared’s looking at Jensen’s dick, all dusky and fat and maybe just the tiniest bit hard like it’s showing off for him. His mouth starts watering so bad his cheeks cramp up.   
  
And that’s all before the moaning starts.   
  
The sound kick-starts Jared’s heart into overdrive because that’s a chick and unless she’s invisible or some shit Jared doesn’t know how she got here. Or, you know, unless she’s on the TV. That could explain it too. On the TV and naked with these two dudes pawing at her, big hands all over her tits and her ass, fingers pushing into her mouth and like, like, other places. Like seriously ‘other’ type of other places.   
  
Clearly he should have shelled out the cash for the unrated cut of _Bourne_.   
  
Jensen startles him out of raptly staring at the plasma screen with a too quiet, “You said you were down for it, right?” His face is really pink and it’s crazy-thrilling to realize that Jared has no clue whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or turned on. “So it doesn’t have to be a big deal. We could just…”  
  
He doesn’t really get around to finishing the sentence but Jared’s always been awesome at fill in the blank questions so he goes ahead and nods, “Yeah,” as emphatically as he can without risking his skull popping off like an overworked bobble-head. Whatever Jensen’s after, the answer is definitely yes.   
  
“Good,” Jensen breathes out too hard, grinning. “Cool.”   
  
Still nodding – he kind of forgot what he was doing once Jensen smiled at him – Jared just stares for long enough that he’s starting to feel like a creeper and can’t really do anything about it. Not until Jensen knocks his knee against Jared’s and teases, a little shaky, “Get your pants off, dude. Feeling violated here.”  
  
Jared’s jittering all the way down to his toes when he stands up, fingers too stupid to catch the little metal tab of his zipper for the first couple of tries, then remembers he’s still wearing his sneakers and has to kick those off too with his jeans bunched awkwardly around his knees. It’d be a major boner-killer except Jensen’s seen him in way more humiliating situations than this. And also because Jared’s been trying to kill his boner for Jensen for like a year and half and it just keeps coming back like the goddamn Jason Voorhees of hard-ons.

 

Closer yet this time, Jared takes a seat, hesitates and then figures, why not, and shucks his shirt too so that they’re matched, long swaths of Jensen’s hot skin pressed right up against his arm and leg. Jensen’s foot is bouncing like a dog getting scratched just right, this funny nervous habit of his that’s so fucking normal in the middle of whatever the hell else they’re doing here that Jared doesn’t even think about reaching out and putting a hand on it to still him until his stomach does the cha-cha-slide over how huge his fingers look wrapped around Jensen’s knee.   
  
Up on the TV the guys have the girl down on her knees licking at their cocks and rubbing them against each other all wet and shiny.   
  
“Where’d you get this?” Jared asks without thinking, totally not fixating on the way Jensen’s muscles feel shifting under his palm or how Jensen hasn’t knocked his hand away.   
  
“Mike,” Jensen shrugs. He licks his lips which isn’t even close to out of the ordinary but with all the stimulus backing up in his head like a ten car pile-up on the I-30 it’s probably not so surprising that Jared ends up replacing the pornstar girl with Jensen in his mind, imagining what his mouth would look like all shiny and red like that, swollen from a cock pushing into him over and over and fuck, Jared really needs to get his dick out or he’s going to be going home with sticky underwear on.   
  
Carefully, ready to stop if it looks like Jensen’s freaking out, Jared slides the band of his boxers down enough to free his cock. It’s way too red considering he hasn’t even been hard that long and leaking sloppily at the tip like he always does when he’s seriously turned on.   
  
He’s always thought it was kind of gross, wet like a fucking girl, but now he sort of wants to get down on his knees and thank God because Jensen’s fingers are sliding through the mess, jerking back with a hissed, “Sorry,” like he didn’t even realize what he was doing until Jared says, “No, ‘s ok, you can,” fighting like hell to get the syllables out in the right order, and then their back again. Jensen just plays with it, finger-painting the crown with precome in this dazed sort of way while Jared holds it still and leaks like a broken faucet.   
  
“Is it always like this?” Jensen asks, two fingers dragging wet tails behind them as they slide lower on his shaft. Jared nearly chokes to death swallowing back a moan.   
  
His, “Pretty much,” comes out too tight to even really sound like words, but Jensen doesn’t look like he cares. Actually he looks a lot like that time in ninth grade when they found a joint in Josh’s room and got so stoned that Jensen spent like an hour counting Jared’s hair. It’s like he’s mesmerized or hypnotized, whatever the difference it. Is it possible to hypnotize someone with dick? Because that would be a fucking killer superpower, Jared thinks, even if it would mean putting his cock in some potentially dangerous situations.   
  
“I brought lube, but fuck, you don’t even need it, do you?”  
  
Jared’s whole body jolts with the force of his cock leaping at the conglomeration of Jensen and lube and Jared’s hard-on all shoved together in the same thought.   
  
“You might,” he points out, trying not to get too far into all the ways that could be taken. Jesus, Jensen’s going to kill him from the hot without even trying.  
  
Jensen blinks dreamily at him before he seems to remember that he’s got a dick of his own trying to bust the seams of his boxers. He doesn’t bother with the whole push-down routine, just pulls them all the way off and leaves them laying there on the rug while his cock bobs up to give his belly a wet little kiss. It is, hands down, far and away the sexiest fucking thing Jared has ever seen in his whole damn life.

 

Jensen’s not quite as big as Jared, but his dick is stocky, this deep, dark pinkinsh, curving just slightly to the right. The hair all around it is neatly trimmed enough to make Jared self-conscious about the wiry nest of his own, but he wasn’t really planning on anybody seeing it, in his defense. Which makes him wonder if Jensen’s all nicely manicured and shit because he was hoping Jared would see it, if he did it _for_ Jared and just like that the whole thing gets impossibly hotter.   
  
Dimly he hears one of the guys in the video groan like he’s blowing his wad but he hasn’t got any real interest in looking up to check it out, not with Jensen right here in front of him like living breathing sex.   
  
“Can I…”  
  
And luckily Jensen’s pretty good with fill in the blanks too. He humps into Jared’s hovering hand, just the tip bump-bump-bumping across his fingers before he gets the message and wraps Jensen up in a fist. It's burning hot and velvety in that way he's familiar with but never really pays attention to when he's feeling himself up. Now it's all he can pay attention to, the texture and the heat, resistance and give, the trippy, thrilling shift of skin as he gives it a firm stroke from root to tip.  
  
Strong fingers dig into his shoulder as soon as he does, Jensen’s mouth falling into a slack ‘o’ around a honey-sweet, gut-wrenched moan.   
  
“Fuck. You and your fucking giant hands. Shit.” Then Jensen’s grabbing at him, pushing and pulling in ways Jared can’t make sense of with so much of his mind devoted to the way Jensen’s cock looks popping through the ring of his fingers until Jensen says, “C’mon, get up.”  
  
There’s some awkward shuffling around, both of them up on their knees on the couch. He keeps thinking this should seem stranger; whenever he’d fantasized about doing things with Jensen it had always been somewhere else, the truck or a party or a hotel or some theoretical dorm room or apartment they might have one day. Here, with all of Jensen’s stuff, this room Jared’s spent the night in a hundred times, this couch that Jared had helped move downstairs two years ago when Jensen’s mom got a new one for the living room, it’s all so real it’s gone around the bend to surreal and all the way back to real again. Both of them jostling until everything lines up right, arms bumping as they get a hand on each other, a breath away and not quite touching as they start to jerk each other off and as different as it is, it’s still Jensen and him.   
  
From somewhere between the cushions Jensen produces that bottle of lube, as much of it ending up on the sofa as them as he drizzles it over Jared's hand and his own cock. He nearly overbalances them both on Jared's first stroke, muttering something that sounds like a curse with his eyes slammed shut. At the same time, his fingers clench around Jared, just the right side of too rough and it starts to occur to Jared that he might have seriously underestimated the difficulty of all this.   
  
But Jensen's here, right down in the middle of it with him panting and naked - fucking _naked_ , which, like, yeah, he noticed before with the taking off the underwear and everything but the actual word 'naked' didn't key in until right exactly now - giving Jared these eyes, all big and wide, total window-to-the-soul kind of bullshit like they always are but also kind of dark and hungry too behind his mega-nerd glasses and they need to be classified as like WMDs or something for how they tear Jared up.

 

Between the two of them they work out something that's got fuck-all to do with a rhythm but sort of works anyway. Every little thing seems like too much and not enough, Jensen's knuckles bumping against his belly almost as thrilling as the guitar calluses on his fingertips rubbing around his ridge. It feels like Jensen's drawing Jared's whole body mass steadily down into his cock, all this backed up pressure walled up behind a dam of 'just a little longer, just make it last'. Jensen's big-time buckled down about it too, serious, hardcore levels of dedication in the set of his mouth like when he decides to become the master of whatever somebody was stupid enough to tell him he couldn't do. And that's awesome, hell yeah it is, but if he's got that much concentration, clearly Jared needs to step up his game.   
  
All the way out at the end of this particular limb - if he's going to be out on it, he might as well go hard - Jared scrapes his thumbnail over Jensen's slit the next time he rubs over the head because sometimes Jared likes it a little rough and maybe Jensen does too. He counts the rough noise that grates out of Jensen as a win, keeps it soft and smooth with the pad of his thumb for another couple of goes before he gives it a try on the little knot on the underside of the head. Jensen's leg jerks like Jared just tapped a nerve.   
  
Fucker fights dirty too, not that that's any kind of revelation. His free hand is working Jared's boxers the rest of the way off and then he's palming Jared's balls, angle skewed to try and keep out of Jared's way but still twitchy-good. Better when he tugs a little, just hard enough. It nails Jared right in the gut and he kind of just flails over it for a second, both hands curled over Jensen's hips to hang the hell on.   
  
Jensen's used to him going all muppet-armed, though so he compensated for it automatically, gives Jared another one of those tugs with a smirk to cap it off, big and daring and, like, lewd considering what he's doing and how pleased he looks about it. That right there, is a sex face and just because Jared's never seen Jensen's before doesn't mean he doesn't recognize it when it's staring him in the eye and getting him all extra hot and bothered. Jared's honestly not sure what the fuck they're up to here any more but he's very much in favor.  
  
He's read all about women who've Hulked out and, like, lifted cars up off of their kids and crazy ass shit from adrenaline and that's just about got to be what does it because, most of the time, his self-preservation instincts would be enough to talk him out of using his hold on Jensen's hips to drag him in those last couple of inches and get him all up in Jared's deal but they just aren't doing their job right now. This gasp puffs up Jensen's chest, which Jared can feel, just like how he can feel every other fucking thing Jensen's got, bursts right back out against Jared's lips hot and muggy.   
  
The squirmy thing Jensen does with his hands where they're still trapped between their bodies is kind of majorly uncomfortable with Jensen's wrists and his fingers and all kinds of stuff knocking around into his goods. But then Jensen gets free and they're dick to dick, newly-freed hand smacking down on Jared's butt and just like fucking grabbing him, just straight up _groping his ass_.  
  
He gets out all of the "oh," of his 'oh shit' before his spine liquifies and punches its way out the end of his dick, messy spurts all over the space between them, getting them both filthy and fucking ruining sex for fucking ever for Jared because how could anything ever be hotter than this?  
  
Jensen's saying some shit Jared can't actually hear over the ringing in his ears but he can feel it against his cheek, shivery breath and a bare suggestion of Jensen's lips. It's so amazing it takes Jared a second to realize he's not coming for way the hell too long, he's done and that's Jensen who's jizz is dripping over him now, obscene waterfalls of it trickling down his balls as they start to ease up and let him breathe again.

 

Because neither of them is doing the work to keep them upright any more, they flop out on the couch in an unruly tangle of limbs. Jared's skin's sticky between the sweat and the lube and the come and aside from being probably the last thing Jensen wants rubbed all over him, it's upping their odds of staining the couch by truly astronomical levels. Still, Jared can't quite get up the energy to try and shove Jensen off of him. Or the will. Both really. Sweaty, gross, naked Jensen is still naked Jensen, after all.   
  
But Jensen doesn't seem to be having that issue, or then again, maybe he is because he does peel himself partway off of Jared, but he only gets as far as lifting his face up to hover over Jared's. He's staring down, jaw set and eyes way too hard for the pretty spectacular orgasms - if Jared does say so himself - that just happened. Which is probably not a good thing. More like a pissed off thing. Like an 'I'm going to beat the fuck out of you for tricking me into that gay-ass shit' thing even though Jensen's the one who brought all the porn and lube and stuff. It's kind of unfair and Jared's can't do anything about it because if Jensen needs to hit him for them to still be friends then Jared can handle that.  
  
Except Jensen just keeps glaring at him and says, "Do it." Repeats it when Jared can't make sense of what's happening. Finally gets fed up and hauls off and punches Jared right in the mouth.   
  
With his lips. Which Jared's pretty sure isn't the way this is traditionally done.   
  
Pulling away, he just looks nervous, blushing and chewing at his thick bottom lip and… oh. Hell.   
  
The world goes tilt-a-whirl with the speed Jared rolls them, getting stuck against the back of the couch with Jensen only partway under him. His mouth bangs into Jensen’s, teeth catching his lip so there’s that coppery flavor laid over it when Jensen opens his mouth to bitch and Jared gets a taste of the Dr. Pepper he must have had for breakfast. Then – and oh God, it’s fucking great – Jensen is licking him back, soft and kind of careful for all of one second before he’s trying to swallow Jared, mouth-first.   
  
He’s making all of these happy little noises that make Jared think of last summer when Jensen was licking up the stray drips of snow-cone running down his fingers, the first time Jared’s head ever really put Jensen’s mouth together with a good time. Except now it’s Jared’s tongue Jensen’s sucking on which is like eighty different kinds of better.  
  
He’s way too sensitive for all the grinding that’s going on, the scratchy hairs on Jensen's thighs rasping against his soft, wet dick, but there’s no way he’s going to stop either so he just rolls with it until the shocks get to be too much for either of them to do more than pant into each other’s mouth, lips dragging slippery against Jensen’s.   
  
There should be something to say here, it’s been a fucking eventful afternoon already and it can’t have been more than maybe an hour going by the looped scene selection music from the porn on the TV, but Jared’s got nothing but fluffy little dandelion seeds where his brain used to be. Fortunately, Jensen’s always been better at finding the right words, even if Jared says a lot more of them. It’s kind of their thing – balancing each other.   
  
“I’m gonna need a beer if you were serious about the Christmas songs.”  
  
The laugh that breaks out of Jared is too loud to be right in Jensen’s face the way it is. Jensen just grins at it though, one hand sneaking up on Jared’s thigh like he’s not going to notice. Like he’d stop it.   
  
He doesn’t know what it means for them, if they’re like, going to date or just be fuck buddies or what. He figures he might get his wish about getting to suck Jensen’s cock. And maybe, if he’s stupid fucking lucky, the big gay love thing isn't entirely out of the question either.


End file.
